Even Gentlemen Fight Sometimes
by Ariza Luca
Summary: You know how the nicest people are the most frightening when they are angry? Well, that was especially true for when the Professor and Luke got into fights. (rated T for safety)
1. Fights

Luke and the Professor usually got along like champions. They both liked puzzles, and Luke loved his godfather dearly, even trying to be a 'true gentleman' like him.

Unfortunately, even those two got into little tiffs from time to time. Although I suppose ' _little_ ' was putting it too mildly.

You know how the nicest people are the most frightening when they are angry? Well, that was especially true for when the Professor and Luke got into fights- when they truly fought, which was really not that often, they pretty much blew up at each other (in the case of Luke) and sometimes would even give one another the cold shoulder for at least the next few days, in the worst of them.

Luke often didn't remember his fights with his parents if he ever had them, but he remembered every single one of his fights with the Professor almost perfectly- perhaps because they had so few.

Some were very short and quick- the Professor thought Luke's behavior had been completely out of control and Luke didn't think so, Luke one time accidentally had some wine and the Professor was upset because he thought he'd done it on purpose. Those had lasted a few hours, or a day at most.

One of the worst ones, now that Luke thought about it was when Luke was still about thirteen, before their last official 'adventure' together, and he was helping the Professor with a puzzle. However, he'd been in a bad mood that day. He still remembered why- his father had refused to let him go off to the fair with his school, for some reason or another.

 _"If you have two coins that total thirty-five cents and one of the coins is not a dime, what is it? ... Luke? My boy, are you alright? You're looking positively-"_

 _Luke was trying his best to be patient, but he'd been glaring down at the puzzles for an hour and barely been able to fume his way through them, so he now put his fists down on the table. He did it a bit harder than he'd been intending to, and he knew an ugly glare was on his face, but at the moment he was in such a bad mood that he found he did not care terribly much._

 _"Yes! I'm fine, Professor!" he snapped, even though he really wasn't._

 _The Professor couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face, which then turned into a more stern one. "Luke, a true gentleman-"_

 _Luke couldn't take it anymore._

 _All day he'd been holding his frustration, resentment, and anger in, and now he took it all out on the poor Professor. "A true gentleman what?! What doesn't a true gentleman do?! I've heard those four words all too much lately! 'Luke, a true gentleman does this!' 'Luke, a true gentleman does that'! Honestly do I really do so little correct that you have to correct me every bloody minute?!"_

 _The Professor looked surprised, and then a look of disappointment came over his face. "Luke, my boy..."_

 _Luke was sure he sounded petulant, childish, and rude, but at that particular moment he couldn't have given a damn. "Don't call me that!"_

 _"Luke, calm down. A tr-" The Professor stopped what he was saying in time, and corrected himself, "Luke, please calm down. You're looking positively-"_

 _"Don't you_

 _ **DARE** make an excuse for this!" Luke shouted. "I don't think I can take it anymore!"_

 _"Luke," and now the Professor was standing, his dark eyes gleaming dangerously, "I hate to say it, my boy, but at the moment you are sounding absolutely childish."_

 _Luke stamped his foot against the floor so hard that for the briefest of moments he was positive that his foot would go right through the boards. "Who the bloody hell cares?!" he shouted. "Sometimes I just wish- I just wish-!"_

 _He couldn't even speak, he was so angry, and after a moment of trying to grasp words out of thin air he turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him so hard he was positive that the door would splinter into a thousand pieces. Then he bolted to his room._

 _Luke couldn't even SIT DOWN, he was so incensed, so instead he paced his floor, so repetitively that for a few minutes he was pretty sure he was going to wear holes in his carpet._

 _For the first day of their fight, he went about feeling as though he could punch something, with the Professor avoiding his gaze- and in fact, him. He didn't care very much, although he did feel slightly worried when Flora skirted around both of them, looking as though if she didn't act gingerly she'd set off a nuclear bomb._

 _The second day, Luke was feeling significantly calmer- enough to even crack open one of his puzzle books, and to try to solve the riddle the Professor had given him a few days ago. A slight twinge of guilt was tugging at him now, but he tried to forget it- and how he'd slammed the door in the Professor's face._

 _The third day, Luke had solved the puzzle and was feeling almost back to his old self. Even though he'd solved the puzzle, it seemed strangely... empty, without the Professor to smile at him over a cup of tea (even though Luke had to have the sweetest tea and sweeten it with two cubes of sugar as well) and smiling his congratulations._

 _By the fourth day, Luke was literally drenched with guilt, and he felt as though he were drowning in it. He was an idiot. He was stupid, he was a jerk, and he'd never be a true gentleman no matter how much the Professor would try to help him._

 _On the fifth day, Luke managed to work up the courage to knock on the Professor's study door. "Come in," the Professor said, and Luke eked the door open and stepped into the room, twiddling his thumbs nervously. "Um, P-Professor...?"_

 _The Professor looked up at him in surprise, but Luke bit his lip and forged on, "I-I figured out that puzzle you set me, the other day."_

 _For a moment, there was this bone chilling silence, until the Professor asked, sounding very calm, "And what was the answer?"_

 _"A dime and a quarter. They said one of the coins is not a dime, so the other one is," Luke responded, his nails pretty much digging into his flesh, so painfully that if he did it any deeper he would start bleeding._

 _The Professor was silent for a moment, before chuckling. "Good job, my boy."_

 _And those four words made a huge wave of relief surge into Luke, replacing his anxiety from only a moment ago with that sweet, uplifting feeling._

But that wasn't the end of the fighting, oh no. There were long intervals between the fights- sometimes YEARS would go by between them, especially when he'd moved back to London from America, but that wasn't the end of it. No, they'd had another one when Luke had asked his godfather for his permission to date Flora, and another one when Flora had come home crying (from a complete misunderstanding, not for that reason at all).

But the worst... oh, the worst came when Luke had his own children, and they were going to visit the Professor for the day.

Only the day before Luke had had to reprimand his child for some petty stealing- an apple from a classmate, but Luke had scolded her so severely that his child, who he'd named Claire in honor of the Professor's sweetheart, was still crying.

The Professor was a doting grandfather, and he had not been terribly pleased when Claire had been sniffling pitifully, and had requested Luke come into his office.

Luke couldn't remember what they actually said. He just remembered what had happened.

At first it had started out relatively calm, with the two of them sitting in their chairs. But Luke had always had a very fiery temper and then the two of them started raising their voices and then soon the two of them were shouting at each other, because even though the Professor was a gentleman even he lost his temper from time to time.

At one point Luke was pretty sure he'd shouted something, and the Professor hit him, a backhand that sent Luke stumbling several feet back.

He stared at the Professor, rage and disbelief surely written all over his expression, and the Professor was standing there with his frozen look on his face, though from shock or rage Luke was not sure. And perhaps he never would be sure, because shortly after he'd left the house, bringing his confused and innocent children and a confused and worried Flora with him. And even as he drove away, the Professor watched them with this frozen look on his face, standing in the doorway.

That had been three years ago.

Luke had long given up on asking the Professor for forgiveness. From what he'd done he was sure the Professor wouldn't have accepted it, seeing as he'd angered the Professor enough to make him hit him. He was invited often to family outings, but he always made an excuse and went off to help the animals at the veterinary clinic. He hadn't even _seen_ the Professor for three whole years.

But this time there was no getting out of it. No, Flora had told him that if he didn't come this time, there would be some incredibly bad consequences.

Luke took a deep breath as he prepared to get into the car.

No matter how the Professor reacted, Luke was prepared for anything.

Truthfully though, if he could go back in time and do it again, Luke would've tried to keep his temper at least.

And, if Luke were to be truly honest with himself, deep down he really, really missed the Professor, no matter what he tried to tell himself otherwise.

 **A/N: This is the incredibly long first part of a three-chapter oneshot which idea just popped into my head randomly today. Anyway, I hope you like it!**

 **x.X. A.L. X.x**


	2. Unsaid

Sometimes, Professor Hershel Layton was sure he was one of the biggest fools that ever lived.

Oh, he was good at archaeology, of course, and his puzzle-solving skills were to be envied. But what the poor Professor sometimes didn't even have a CLUE about was people.

Especially his apprentice, Luke Triton.

Ahem. Sorry. That statement was actually incorrect.

His _ex_ -apprentice.

Luke had come to his home, many years after he and Flora had been married. Hershel doted on those children, and when Claire- his secret favorite out of all three children- had come to his home sniffling, he'd been somewhat angry. Not enough to really do anything, mind you, but enough to make him call Luke to his office to have a talk. By the way Luke dragged his feet slightly on the carpet, he could tell that the boy- no, sorry, I did it again- the young man knew he was in trouble with the one whom he considered his foster father.

Luke had sat down quietly in his office, almost stiffly, in an armchair. "Professor, let me explain-" he began, but Hershel cut him off.

"Luke, my boy, please listen. Claire is only seven. Whatever you reprimanded her for couldn't have been too bad," Hershel said quietly, in a low voice. Luke's face flashed with irritation- an emotion that had hardly ever reared it's ugly head with the Professor. "Professor," Luke said, his voice more insistent now, "Claire stole an apple from her classmate. You can hardly expect me to let her go with that, do you?"

"No, I agree, stealing is quite inappropriate. But so is reprimanding your child so heavily for that," Hershel said quietly, "You never saw me do that with you, did I?"

Luke's face colored a bit. The poor boy had always had a bit of a temper, and now his voice was raised. "No, you didn't. But I never _stole_ from anyone!" he snapped. The Professor's brow furrowed. "Luke, my boy-"

"Don't say that! If you say that, you're going to make me feel guilty when I didn't do anything wrong this time!" Luke snapped again, more loudly. The Professor took a deep breath. "Luke, a true gentleman-"

This was precisely the wrong thing to say at this time.

"Oh, a true gentleman does _what?!_ Encourage _stealing?!_ Let wrongdoers run willy nilly?!" Luke shouted now, and Hershel winced slightly. "Because, _Professor Layton,_ that kind of sounds like what you're doing right now!" He was standing now, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Luke, my boy, you are being very unreasonable. I do admit Claire should be reprimanded, but you should't have been so harsh on her!" the Professor said, his own voice being raised now. He stood up as well- to tell the truth, his neck was starting to crick from looking up at Luke- and Luke shouted back, "Well, _Professor_ , perhaps I should just let her steal this time! Since you obviously care more about my daughter than you do about me!"

"Luke Triton, you are being absolutely ridiculous! A true gentleman-" The Professor stopped himself midsentence, but the damage had been done.

"Oh, of course! A _true gentleman_ always has a _lady_ 's preferences first, of course, how the bloody hell could I forget?!" Luke shouted now, and now he was practically at arm's length rather than the length of the table. "The great _Hershel Layton_ has yet ANOTHER lesson for me, because of course _I'm_ not a true gentleman!"

Hershel's temper was running thin. "Luke, _language-_ and I never said anything of the sort-"

"You know what, _Professor_?! I think you _never_ cared about me or Flora or anyone- _you just care about yourself!_ " Luke yelled, and something inside the Professor snapped, and even though he knew Luke was just in a bad mood and being childish and surely, surely if the Professor had been thinking more clearly he could've avoided what happened next, but he hadn't been, and he found himself swinging his hand and hitting Luke with a furious backhand.

He immediately froze, his eyes wide, his hand frozen in midair. Luke's eyes were also wide, as wide as the tea saucers the Professor used, and he stood there with his hand to his cheek, frozen midstance as he stared at the Professor. His mouth was moving in a stunned silence, almost like a fish thrown out of water. In a way the Professor supposed

Hershel wanted to apologize, but he found all he could do was stare in a shocked silence at Luke.

The next few minutes were a blur as Luke took a confused Flora back to the car, as well as the children. He stared after them, the apology still on his lips.

But it went entirely and utterly unspoken.

And it'd go unspoken for the next three years.

The Professor had invited Luke over multiple times afterwards, hoping to make amends. No such luck. Luke avoided him like the plague.

This year, though, Flora had told the Professor perkily over the phone, "Luke's coming this time around- and it only took threatening that I wouldn't cook anything for him for a month to convince him!" Her cooking had much improved, the Professor was quite thankful for that- otherwise every year around Thanksgiving he would've had to call into work sick from food poisoning.

Now, it was just to hope that Luke would accept his apology.

Oh, who was he kidding?

Professor Hershel Layton, as ungentlemanly as it was, let out a loud sigh and buried his head in his arms.

Luke obviously wouldn't accept the apology.

Why else would he have avoided his old mentor for the past three years?

 **A/N: Second part!**

 **Review/comment, let me know what you think, and I'll see you later! (backflips out a window)**

 **x.X. A.L. X.x**


	3. Forgiven

Luke swallowed nervously as he knocked on the door. Flora stood a little behind him, along with the children. Claire glanced from Luke to the door, looking a bit apprehensive.

"One moment, my dear!" his mentor called. A few sounds of footfalls and then the Professor opened the door.

Luke and the Professor went tense at the exact same moment, and for a few moments the two of them were utterly speechless.

The Professor didn't look too terribly different. A few creases by the corner of his eyes, the occasional wrinkle, mostly around his mouth and eyes, his brown hair streaked with gray- the part that Luke could see, anyway- and his hat still sat on his head. He wore his suit, as usual.

"... Luke. You actually came," the Professor said. He didn't sound _too_ unpleased, but then with the Professor it was rather difficult to be sure- he would probably keep the same expression if the Laytonmobile had fallen off a surface and they were free-falling through the air- oh wait.

"... ye-yes Professor," Luke said, trying to keep the nervous tone out of his voice and mostly succeeding.

* * *

Hershel had been rearranging the living room when he heard the doorbell ring. "One moment my dear!" he called. _That'll be Flora and the children... and Luke, if he decided to come this time, but surely,_ surely _he wouldn't have come, not after so long,_ and then he was at the door and he'd opened it and he was face to face with Luke.

He went tense. He couldn't help it, but he was staring at Luke now, as though he couldn't even stop himself.

Luke looked much the same as always- perhaps a bit more mature than before, a bit more square of a jaw, but otherwise much the same, except he was a bit thinner- had he not been eating or something? No, because it wasn't really a noticeable difference. Well, to anyone but Layton it wasn't. To him it was a huge difference that could be spotted in one moment.

"... Luke," he managed, after a few moments of utter speechlessness. "You actually came." He was using his normal neutral tone, _forcing_ himself not to sound excited or even happy, but _good god_ he was.

"... y-yes Professor," Luke said, stiffly. The stiff tone made his heart ache. Really, he just wanted to make amends with Luke, but of course it didn't look as though Luke would be making that task easy for him.

"... er, would you like to come to my office? Flora, everything you need is in the kitchen," he told her, before turning and walking to his office silently, without even looking to see if Luke was following him. It was almost like the Greek legend of Orpheus, where if he looked back Luke would just disappear.

And call him crazy but the Professor was actually a little frightened that would happen.

* * *

Luke sat down in the same armchair he had before the fight. The Professor took a deep breath and looked down at his knees.

Luke also looked down at his knees. He refused to make eye-contact with his mentor. No doubt he'd find no forgiveness in those dark eyes of his. The Professor shifted, and Luke knew by now that the Professor was actually looking at him.

"... Luke. A true gentleman-" The Professor stopped himself and took another deep breath.

Luke couldn't help letting a tiny, melancholy smile sneak over his lips and then disappear again- no doubt the Professor had been about to say something along the lines of 'A true gentleman doesn't stare down at his knees.'

Even though he'd complained about it in the past, he'd give anything for the Professor to say something along those lines again.

"Luke, I-"

The almost _broken_ tone that the Professor took startled Luke, and he looked up, and a shaft of pure shock lanced through him, and he sat there unable to breathe in shock as he stared at the Professor.

The Professor looked _positively ancient_ , his entire body slumped forward slightly in his chair and his eyes hidden in the shadow his hat provided, his entire body trembling noticeably. In that moment he looked raw and vulnerable and every hint of his approaching age that Luke had noticed a few minutes ago seemed to stand out like mountains and hills in a perfectly flat landscape.

"... P-Professor...?" The whisper came out so softly that he was sure that the Professor couldn't even freaking _hear_ it.

"... I'm sorry, Luke," he apologized, the shadow still over his eyes. "I'm so..." his voice cracked a little, and his voice broke, and his shoulders seemed to shake even harder. He took another deep breath, and he finished shakily, "so, _so_ _sorry..._ "

* * *

The Professor took a deep breath, staring at his knees to steel himself.

He looked up, seeing Luke staring at his knees, and even though he'd _literally_ just been doing the same thing, the Professor said, automatically, "Luke, a true gentleman-" He forced himself to stop, taking another deep breath.

No, Luke had been complaining about it before. He surely wouldn't take it kindly if he did it again.

The Professor opened his mouth. And suddenly he couldn't stop shaking, and he swiped a hand over his eyes, trying to force himself not to shake. It was a lost cause, though, and he gave up on it a moment later. He slumped forward, his hat making a shadow fall over his eyes as his teeth gritted slightly, and it took every reminder of being a _perfect gentleman_ to not cry and show how hurt he was, even though there were some things he just couldn't hide.

"Luke, I-" His voice came out in such a broken tone, and he choked a little as he forced himself to stop. He didn't even look to see if Luke would look up at him and plowed on, "I'm so..."

For some reason his words got stuck in his throat and he couldn't stop and he swallowed the lump that was stuck permanently in his throat as he managed to choke out, "so, _so sorry..._ " And then his words were rising into a higher pitch and he was shaking even harder and his tears were beginning to stream down his face.

"Professor-!" And then Luke was hugging him, and the Professor returned the hug without even hesitating, and he was shaking and fairly _sobbing_ into his apprentice's shoulder.

"Professor, you're not... angry?"

Hershel let out a mournful laugh. "Oh, yes I am. I'm furious at myself for letting myself get so worked up. Luke, I'm so-"

"I'm sorry!" Luke burst out in kind. "I would've come and apologized but I thought that you- that you were too angry to forgive me!"

"How could I not forgive you, Luke?" the Professor chuckled lowly. "I thought _you_ were the one who was angry..."

Luke let out a shuddering breath and hugged the Professor, and the two of them sat like that for what felt like the longest time.

* * *

"Professor, I've solved it!"

The Professor checked. "Wonderful job, my boy," he complimented, smiling slightly.

Flora shook her head in wonder. She had absolutely NO clue at what on earth had transpired in the last hour but whatever it had been she was glad for it. The two most important men in your life not getting along wasn't a worry she wanted to prioritize.

The children were incredibly confused at the sudden change in mood, though.

 **A/N: And I have finished this threeshot! Hope you all liked it, review on what you thought it was like, and I'll see you next time!**

 **x.X. A.L. X.x**


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